CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

The Suncrest Nursing Home was located in an upscale retirement community in Wilameta County, just seven miles from Eagles Landing. Beverly had chosen this facility after a long search for a place that could properly care for her father, without breaking the bank or being too far away to visit. It was a hard decision to put him away, but a practical one. She was ill equipped to take care of her nearly teenaged son and a father with Alzheimer’s disease, while working full time as a prosecuting attorney.

Beverly’s father, Alberto Elizondo, was in the courtyard when she and Jaime arrived. A nurse was supervising them and seemed content to allow the patients to wander around in the huge yard surrounded by geraniums and daisies, as if trying to find themselves.

“What should I say to him?” asked Jaime, uncertainty creasing his brow.

“Just talk to him as your grandfather,” Beverly responded. “Even if he seems lost, he’ll appreciate it.”

Or so she hoped.

They walked up to him. Alberto was staring into space, as if waiting to be picked up by aliens. Beverly noted that where once her father had been a large man and strong as a bull, he was now quite frail and seemed to be getting thinner by the visit. At seventy-four, he still had much of his hair. It was a fine layer of wintry white and combed to the side and backwards.

“Hello, Papa,” she said to him, mindful that on her last visit he had responded as if he remembered she was his progeny.

Alberto stared at her with blank eyes, green-gray in color.

“It’s me, Beverly.” She felt like she was talking to a stranger rather than her own father.

“Beverly...” He narrowed his gaze at her, straining for recognition. “Have we met?”

“She’s your daughter,” Jaime blared out. “And I’m your grandson, Jaime. Don’t you remember us, Grandpa, even a little bit?”

Beverly could hear the irritation yet sincere hope in his voice.

Alberto painted a smile on his weathered face. “Sure I do. You’re my grandson, Jaime.” He looked at Beverly, straining for recognition. “And you’re...”

“Beverly, Papa,” she repeated gingerly, as if talking to a child. She tried to help him along with hand gestures, like using sign language.

“Maria?” He scratched his head vigorously. “You look like my Maria.”

Maria was Beverly’s mother. She had always been told she favored her. Except by her father, who had always claimed her features were similar to his side of the family. Beverly preferred to think she inherited the best of both parents.

It was all she could do to hold back the tears. She knew she had to stay strong, especially in front of Jaime. It was hard enough on him trying to come to grips with his grandfather’s memory loss. She didn’t want him to see her break down, causing him further distress.

“I’m not Maria, Papa,” Beverly said gently to him. “Maria was my mother...and your wife.”

“My wife?” Alberto looked confused. “Maria...”

“Mama’s dead now, Papa.” It pained her to have to say this, still shaken by the reality herself. “She’s been dead for five years now.”

“Dead...for...five...years—” Some form of understanding seemed to register. “No, not Maria,” Alberto croaked. “She would never leave me. She promised me she’d never leave me—” He began bawling like a baby.

Beverly hugged her father, wanting to comfort him, just as she needed to be comforted.

“Mama didn’t leave you, Papa,” she promised him. “She’s never left any of us. She’s in heaven now, but will always be with us in spirit.”

“She will?” Alberto pulled back and with watery eyes, held her gaze.

“I promise, Papa.”

“Yeah, Gramps, Mom’s right,” seconded Jaime.

Alberto smiled momentarily, as if he had forgotten the entire heart wrenching conversation, before turning his mouth downwards into a pout. He eyed Jaime, and asked, befuddled, “Why are you here? I don’t know you!”

“Yes, you do!” shouted Jaime, fresh tears staining his cheeks. “I’m your grandson, Jaime!”

With that he ran off, ignoring Beverly’s cries to come back.

The nurse, alerted to the activity, came over. She was heavyset and in her early thirties. “I think it’s time for Mr. Elizondo to take his medicine and then a nap,” she told Beverly curtly. “You can visit again—”

Beverly might have objected—after all, this was their time with her father, no matter how much of him they had lost forever—had she not known she had to go find her son. She had to try and make him understand and learn to deal with it.

“I have to go now, Papa,” she told him, forcing a cheery smile, even as tears streamed down her face. “I promise we’ll come back again soon.”

There was no response from him as the nurse led him back inside.

Beverly found Jaime sitting on the hood of the car. “You shouldn’t have left like that, Jaime,” she said tartly. “Can’t you see that only makes matters worse?”

“No it doesn’t,” he muttered. “It can’t get any worse! He was only pretending. He doesn’t know me at all and probably not you either! I want Gramps back, like before.”

Beverly wrapped her arms around her son, holding onto him for dear life. They were both crying.

“He’s never going to be the same Grandpa you remember, Jaime,” she said, anguished, but honest. “I wish I could say differently. He’s an old man with a memory disease that’s incurable and only going to get worse. All we can do at this point is pray that Papa can somehow live out his days in relative comfort and peace.”

Jaime seemed to accept this for the moment; even as Beverly tried to come to terms with what seemed like a tall order.

* * *

That afternoon while Jaime went skateboarding, Beverly took the opportunity to do some neglected yard work. She had once had an impressive flower garden, but had been unable to keep up with it in recent years. Now she promised herself to give it another try next spring. Maybe grow some perennials and plant some bulbs.

Beverly spent an hour doing aerobics in the den and another half hour on a stationary bike, deciding she could use a bit more firming here and there. Everyone told her she was in great shape, which she strived to be. Grant seemed especially pleased with her body. But, like most women, she always felt a constant need for improvement. Maintaining a steady workout regimen as a full time Mom and attorney was a challenge to say the least. Yet it was one Beverly was determined to keep up with for peace of mind and fitness.

Later Beverly listened to messages retrieved from her voice mail at work. Most had to do with various aspects of her caseload, requests for interviews, and even an offer to join a prestigious law firm. She had entertained such offers in the past, but never seriously. She loved working for the D.A.’s office, even if sometimes it could be a real pain in the ass. Mostly the work managed to tap into her skills effectively and challenge her mind in ways she could never have imagined.

One message in particular that caught Beverly’s ear came from a Detective Stone Palmer of the Wilameta County Sheriff’s Department.

“Ms. Mendoza, I just talked to a woman writing a true crime book on the Suzanne Landon case. Her name is Lydia Wesley. I’m sure you know the crime originated in Monroe County, but ended up being prosecuted in Wilameta County. How Ms. Wesley got my name, I’ll never know, since my role as a secondary investigator in what turned out to be Ms. Landon’s murdering her rich boyfriend was only minimal in the scheme of things. Anyway, to make a long story short, I referred her to you since you prosecuted the case. So don’t be surprised if she comes your way. Bye now.”

Beverly rolled her eyes. She had little time right now for someone seeking to exploit a murder for personal gain. Much like Suzanne Landon had herself. With any luck, this Lydia Wesley would forget that Detective Palmer had ever given her name as a source of information.

The last message came from Grant, who said, “Just wanted to say that I miss you and loved being with you the other day, in every way...” He paused, as if weighing whether to say anything else. “If I play my cards right, I should have some dynamic news to share with you on Monday, baby. I’d better leave it at that for now, so as not to jinx myself—”

Beverly smiled. Wonder what news that might be? She kept her fingers crossed that he would get the judgeship even as she also recalled the last time they were together. It made her hot just replaying the intimate nature of the occasion.

As for her, she would have to settle for promotions within the D.A.’s office for the moment, Beverly mused. These she saw perfectly within reach, so long as she continued heading in the right direction.

Starting with a successful prosecution of Rafael Santiago.